Flash
by House O' Bones
Summary: A myth is something that people don't usually believe in and probably would never see, which one Jack Frost believes in much too firmly for 265 years since that day. Subdued, afraid, and severely socially inept, what's a young spirit to do when the title of Guardian is placed heavily upon his shoulders?


_I've recently been watching some pretty messed up movies and re-watching RotG. It also kinda doesn't help that I've also been happening to read some Jack Frost whump and JackRabbit fluff fics. _

_I think my brain finally fried itself with all the cuteness and awesomeness that is Jack freakin' Frost. _

I do not own Rise of the Guardians and probably never will.

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1

Pale fingers splayed before a thin, hooded figure as a shepherd's staff stuck itself into the dry soil of a forest and shone vibrantly with power. Pulsating and frantic whispers sounded through the cold, autumn air as the temperature dropped significantly in the few minutes that passed. The hooded individual dared not shift in fear of ruining the precious, time-consuming process. Clouds shifted and wind howled in rejoice. Flurries of snow floated from above and landed delicately in mounds soon to multiply and consume the dry soil till nothing else could be seen other than white. Minutes passed and the figure collapsed forward wordlessly onto his torn knees, bare feet digging into snow and gasping for air. The staff sprung up from its place and glided towards its shepherd. A pale hand shot out from the confines of its home in the large cape to grab firmly onto its handle. A grunt came from the hooded individual and a contented sigh came forth from equally pale lips. North and South Wind danced around the spirit in joy.

"_Play."_

"_Where go, where go."_

"_Let us play, young one."_

"_I must go, hurry, hurry. Where!"_

"_Yes, yes! The children. Let's play with the children."_

"_Where go, little one?"_

"_No more sad faces on little ones. No sad, please."_

Faint, raspy whispers floated into his hearing and waited patiently for them to pause in their discussion. Pale lips mouthed his answer in the direction of the South Wind, who watched carefully for the instructions. South Wind roared back in annoyance. The figure panted in exhaustion of dispelling his power but shook his hooded head. South Wind sighed it's defeat and left towards the Caribbean to spread heat to its people. North Wind continued to dance around the spirit in excitement, awaiting the other's answer. The hooded head tilted slightly, shadowing the individual's features even further. The voice paused in their planning to await a response from the 'young one'.

"_Shall we play, young one?"_

"_Play?"_

The head tilted back to an upright position, a hand rose to tug at the worn, drawstring of his cape as if he were contemplating the frantic pleas before nodding his head in agreement. The Wind gave a howl of approval.

"_Let us finish our job first. I do not want to leave the children without some snow."_, he whispered._ Or Fun_, the figure mused. The Northern Wind gave a howl of approval.

"_Of course."_

The figure stood from his kneeling position, wiping his worn, tan pants free of excess snow and straightened up not long after. His hand returned to tugging the hood of his cape to prevent the torrents of wind from blowing it back. Pristine white hair fluttered out slightly from behind it before settling back in its cave of protection. The boy's concealed form lifted itself with the assistance of the Northern Wind, staff held out and pointing in their direction of travel.

Snow traveled along his path in mounds, covering whatever pieces of dry soil that remained. A slow smile graced his pale lips as the echoes of children's gasps of surprise and excitement made themselves evident as he passed over rooftops. He slowed his pace to watch youngsters filter from their front doors with snow boots, layers of jackets and sweaters, mittens, scarves wound snuggly, and wool beanies or ear muffs to protect from the cold. Snow sleds and blown up, donut-shaped sleds in hands to the nearest and largest mountain of snow they could find. The concealed figure's stiff shoulders melted in relief and relished in the children's squeals of joy and laughter.

Swooping down towards the closest pack of children, he kneeled down and placed his hands onto top of the cooling water of the small pond. Water froze over in seconds of touching its surface, electing a surprised gasp from the brunette of the pack. Grabbing his staff, the spirit froze of the pond's first layer and then the second to stabilize it. He sighed contently as he stared at the ice, no one was going to get hurt this time around. Not on his watch. North Wind nipped at his cheek in urgency.

"_Let us play." _The young spirit nodded and stood back up, his staff helping him stay upright. His hand formed a snowball in seconds and as he inclined his head in the direction the closest children had gone off too. A lone child was standing off to the side watching the other children building snowmen and sledding, a frown marring her cherub features. Pale lips that had once been upturned in a small smile, frowned briefly before smirking. Arm raised, a small tongue stuck out comically from the side of his mouth, he aimed and fired.

The snowball reached its target, silence followed after as the other children paused in their games to watch the little girl blink owlishly with snow sticking to the right side of her face and hair. Expecting the girl to turn red with rage and give chase, they tensed as her lips twisted in indecision. A giggle followed soon after by full blown laughter burst forth from the girl as she bent over with her arms clinging to her stomach in vain. The other children joined in and ushered her over to join in their new game, a snowball fight. The spirit's concealed form portrayed glee at the success of his plan and fired more snowballs into the mix of the chaos.

Everyone must have Fun.

And no one was going to be miserable and boring as long as Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter, was on the watch.

* * *

"The new Guardian is gonna be this guy? Jack Frost, the guy who ruined Easter of '68?" E. Aster Bunnymund stared incredulously at the Globe and then back at out the window towards the moon. Man in the Moon must have finally lost his marbles, he reasoned to himself. That was the only plausible reason for this mix-up, this mistake. A feathered woman leaned back in her seat across from the table they situated before the Globe and quirked a brow questioningly at the Pooka.

"Of course, Aster. Don't judge him for the past. You have yet to meet Jack Frost. Even so, when the Blizzard of '68 occurred, he was never present.", Toothiana replied. Aster furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. True, but he still blamed the spirit. Frost was the only one with the power to command the season of winter and sprites did not have the ability to control winter to that same degree of Frost as far as he knew. His googies had also reported seeing a hooded figure with white hair and using his staff to trudge through the snow that same day. A large Russian man made his way toward them with two mugs of hot chocolate and a third mug being carried by a yeti.

"No one has ever met the lad before, Toothiana. I'm not very surprised Aster never met him at the scene. Jack never stays in one place long enough for others to catch him.", Nicholas St. North stated. He placed their mugs down onto the coffee table and watched as the concealed figure of Jack Frost trudge through the snow with the aid of his staff carefully.

"I don't believe a tiny, old man like 'im will be able to help us stop that blasted Pitch Black.", Aster grumbled. Nicholas St. North frowned as he continued to watch the Globe's 'broadcast', the thought of Jack Frost's true age had never come to light before. Everyone who has so far reported the usual mischief and havoc the winter spirit would always leave in his wake was an old man. A figure hunched over protectively from the torrents of fierce wind threatening to blow him over and the only pale appendage holding his possession in a tight grip, using it as leverage. But he wasn't one to particularly believe rumors concerning the winter spirit to be true. Especially the one that a cruel sprite decided to spread about the boy deliberately sneaking into Nicholas' workshop to damage the new designs of toys they had been working on.

It was later proven to be the result of a brawl between two male elves over a rather pretty female elf.

"No, not an old man. A young man, _da_.", the Russian shot back. He pointed towards his new finding and ushered the Pooka and Tooth Fairy over to see. A large, plump index finger traced the picture of the spirit's hand holding the staff.

"You see, no wrinkles evident on skin." Toothiana nodded towards Nicholas in acknowledgement. The Easter Bunny snorted as he turned his head away from the sight and took a sip from his mug.

"Even so, it still doesn't prove anything other than the fact he won't be able to help much with Pitch.", he retorted. Nicholas sighed and shook his head, beard following with the movement. This Jack Frost may surprise them. The Russian took the third mug from the yeti and nodded politely in his direction.

"You may return to your work. Thank you, Phil." The yeti, Phil, grunted as he made his way to his station in the workshop. A window groaned open from across the room as a body of sand flowed in gracefully towards the group. Sandman beamed brightly towards his comrades and waved to them in greeting.

"Welcome back! How did your errands go, Sandy?", Tooth asked eagerly. The smallest Guardian formed images above his head with sand, a sand child sleeping contently with a smile and another child with a grin. A sand check mark was soon followed after the two children.

"Great as always, huh? Well, one of my fairies ran into a boy with a broken tooth! Can you believe that? I paid that dentist a visit personally.", she replied. Sandy winced in sympathy for the dentist, he had been ambushed by a nightmare of the tooth fairy that the Nightmare King had crafted in amusement. It was actually quite comical in its own way before he had soothed it away with dreams of the woman's husband and children. Sandy shook his head at the Tooth Fairy in amusement, electing a giggle from her. The Guardian of Dreams turned toward the other two males of the 'Big Four' with the image of a clock and himself running forming above his head.

"No worries, mate. We know you have a schedule to keep.", Aster replied.

"Yes, dear friend. Don't fret over being late. Manny has just informed us of a new addition to our cause.", Nicholas said. The Russian inclined his head towards the Globe and the image of Jack Frost. Sandman swooped down towards the image in excitement with images rapidly changing too fast for them to interpret.

"Woah, woah, woah! Wait a minute! You've met this guy!", Aster cried incredulously. Nicholas' eyes widened in surprise and Toothiana sat up in her seat, hot chocolate forgotten as they stared at the beaming Guardian. Sandman nodded eagerly, images of himself of the hooded figure with his staff floating beside himself atop his cloud of sand running his errands. Sand 'Jack Frost' hunched slightly in wariness of the sand Guardian then tilting his head in confusion as Sandy beckoned him over.

"Ah….I see. That was nice of you.", Toothiana said. Sandy nodded happily at the female.

"Look, let's just get this whole thing over with and nab him.", Aster muttered. Nicholas caught the dialogue and threw his head back and laughed. He rubbed his stomach as he stared at the Easter Bunny in amusement.

"You can't catch ol' Jack, it's impossible! Never been caught since his first appearance three hundred years ago!", Nicholas challenged. Aster could never back down from a challenge given to the Pooka, especially from good ol' Saint Nick.

"That's rubbish, ah course I can! I'm the freakin' Easter Bunny!", the Pooka retorted. Aster marched towards the first yeti he saw and recognized among the rest of them. Taking a final chug of his mug of hot chocolate, he cupped the side of his mouth with a single paw as he placed it atop the head of a passing elf, Dingle, if he recalled correctly.

"Phil, get me that blasted North's sack and a yeti! I gotta winter spirit tah catch!", he bellowed. The Pooka heard the distinct groan of annoyance from the yeti as he moved away from his station towards the Guardian of Wonder's office and snatching the closest, unavailable yeti in his path.

This, Phil knew, was going to be one hell of a kidnapping.

* * *

_A/N: I couldn't replicate Aster's 'Aussi-ness". I probably would've butchered it anyways. _


End file.
